Keith Baker - The Gates of Night

“Only one arrow, Pierce? What is a warrior without a weapon?”

“I am more than just a warrior,” Pierce replied.

“You are more than you know,” Thelania said. “And you are warrior and weapon. Reach within, Pierce.” She took his hand and slowly guided it to the quiver. “Reach within yourself.”

“Pierce?” Lei said. “Are you hurt?”

As his hand touched his quiver, Pierce realized that there was something to what they said. He had felt a void ever since Indigo had destroyed his flail. He’d dismissed it as shame and the loss of a familiar sensation, the comforting weight of the weapon in his hand. Now he realized that void was within him, not his hand. Reaching back into his quiver, he reached into that void …

And found a weapon.

It should have been impossible. The quiver wasn’t deep enough to hold anything but arrows. Yet as he closed his hand, he drew forth a long flail. The weapon was similar in design to the one he’d lost, but lighter, the balance as perfect as any weapon he’d ever held. Though the ball and chain appeared to be made from gold, a touch proved that they were far too strong to be soft gold. Steel banded the haft, and the foot of the weapon was the steel head of a black lion. Shira was analyzing the magical properties of the flail-the ability of the ball to produce radiant light and heat, supernatural strength of the metal and remarkable accuracy-but Pierce didn’t need her to tell him. The weapon was a part of him. It had been there all along. He reached into the void a second time, and he felt the quiver fill with arrows.

“Captain,” he said, testing the weight of the flail. “I am ready.”

Lei’s thoughts were in turmoil as they rode through the sunset fields. Kin led them toward the sunset. There was no path to follow, and they pressed on through wildflowers and weeds. The emissary had been waiting for them at the front gate, with final gifts from the faerie queen: backpacks of oiled leather with golden buckles, filled with food, drink, and healing salves; and five horses, beautiful black steeds with silver manes, and white spots scattered across their flanks.

Her mind drifted back to their departure, the final words of the queen.

“If you wish to leave, I shall not delay you any further,” Thelania had said. “Farewell, Daine. We shall not meet again.”

“And what of Darkheart?” Lei said. The dryad’s voice- Free me! — still echoed in her thoughts, and she had to ask again.

“Her destiny is still bound with yours, Lei,” the queen said. “Her fate is in your hands, not mine.”

Then Daine had pulled Lei away. As soon as they’d left the chamber, he’d demanded an explanation of the queen’s words.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” she’d said, shrugging off his hands. “Not now. Not here. I just want to get out of this place.” The battle with the Woodsman, the wonder of Dusk, the luxury of the palace had helped Lei push the visions of the river to the back of her mind, and she’d been all too happy to forget. The queen’s words proved beyond any doubt that this was no dream, that she would soon have to face her past.

Kin promised a swift journey. “The portal we seek lies by the Bier of the Sleeper,” he said. “It’s not far from here-we’ll be there by nightfall.”

“Does night ever fall here?” Daine said as he mounted his horse.

“No,” Kin said. “Still, it’s not far.”

For a time they rode in silence, and Lei had set aside all thought, simply soaking in the beauty of the fields. Her companions had other ideas, and soon Daine and Pierce dropped back to ride alongside her.

“Lei,” Daine said, “I know this is hard for you. But we need answers.”

“You need answers?” she snapped. “You need answers? Do you think I don’t want answers every bit as much as you do?”

“So you have no idea what she was talking about?” Daine said. “Your bond with the staff? Hearing voices of dead giants?”

“I-” Lei shook her head.

“My lady,” said Pierce, “I do not wish to add to your distress, but there is some logic to this claim. You asked why Lakashtai struck at Daine, when she truly wished to manipulate you. If what the queen said was correct, she could not touch your dreams. Daine was the only one of us she could threaten.”

“Well, that makes me feel so much better,” Daine grumbled.

“Beyond that, I have have been thinking about Harmattan,” Pierce continued. “Perhaps there were other reasons he did not kill you. In Karul’tash, he called you sister-”

“I know,” Lei said. “He spoke to me, while you were scouting. It is not your fault you were forged of flesh instead of steel , he said. I thought it was a metaphor. I thought he’d say the same thing to any human. But now …”

“I don’t understand,” Daine said. “What are you?”

“What am I? I’m the woman you kissed this morning, or have you already forgotten?”

“No,” Daine said, grasping for words. “I mean-”

Lei’s rage had been building, and now the walls came tumbling down. It wasn’t truly Daine she was angry at, but she needed to unleash her anger, her confusion. “What, am I some monster now? I’m flesh and blood, Daine, and I don’t know what this means any more than you do. When I fell into that river, I saw my parents-I saw my parents talking about killing me, as if I were some failed experiment.” She reached back, placing her hand on her dragonmark. “I saw them brand me!”

Now Pierce spoke. “So your dragonmark is fal-”

“I don’t know!” Fear, fury, and insecurity came to a point. All her life she’d defined herself as a child of Cannith, one of the youngest to bear the Mark of Making. This question of humanity was one thing, but it was so broad, so alien, that it was hard for her to grasp. Her dragonmark was her very identity. She whirled in the saddle to face Pierce, and in that moment all her anger burst out of her.

Pierce convulsed, his body shaking and then going rigid, and he fell from the saddle. Lei’s anger melted away into panic.

Did I … what have I done?

She reined in her horse and leapt from the saddle. Daine was the better horseman, and he was already kneeling at Pierce’s side.

“Pierce!” he cried. He looked up at Lei. “He’s inert. I don’t see any damage.”

“It’s internal,” she said. Even as she knelt over him, she knew what had happened. As her anger had grown, she’d seen Pierce’s lifeweb in her mind, felt that pattern, and thrown the full strength of her rage against it. Such a thing was impossible. She should have had to touch him to cause this sort of damage.

She knelt next to Pierce, but she did not touch him. Instead, she tried to visualize his lifeweb, to find his spirit as she had during the battle with the Woodsman. The pattern resolved itself in her mind, and she was shocked to see the damage within him.

“What are you waiting for?” Daine said. “Fix him!”

Lei blocked out his voice, forcing all the noise and chaos from her senses. The pattern of Pierce became her world, and she carefully bridged the gaps and wove the strands together. Then it was done. The world came back to her, Daine shouting, Xu’sasar and Kin watching quizzically.

And Pierce sat up. “What happened?” he said. He paused, no doubt listening to his inner voice. “You attacked me,” he said to Lei.

“I didn’t mean to,” she said. “I don’t even know how I did it, Pierce. There’s a bond between us. I can feel you.”

“How is this possible?” Pierce said.

Another memory flashed through Lei’s mind: the vision she’d had when she first attacked Pierce, of a series of linked lifewebs, of her parents comparing patterns. “I think Harmattan was right. We are family. I think we were created at the same time, and that this bond … my parents must have done this.”